


IT BEATS WALKING

by boneshrine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Chikan, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Public Sex, Public Transportation, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneshrine/pseuds/boneshrine
Summary: Touched-starved Sehun finds his fix on the morning train.





	IT BEATS WALKING

Sehun is a tactile person. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Oh Sehun craves touch. This isn't an issue until recently. His former roommate, Zitao, is just as touchy as Sehun, but two weeks ago, Zitao moved in with his scary Canadian boyfriend. Jongin, Sehun's equally-as-cuddly best friend, is studying abroad now that the new semester has started. And Sehun hasn't had time for dating in so long that he hasn't even considered it.

He stumbles upon the solution accidentally on the morning train on the way to class. He's pressed in on all sides, and it's comfortable, and warm, and Sehun realizes how much he's _missed_ this. A shiver runs down his spine, ending in the curl of his toes. He finds himself leaning into others as they push past to get to the doors and when they have no choice but to pack in closely due to the lack of space—not a lot, not enough to be caught. But enough.

Sehun finally admits to himself that he has a problem when he boards the train for the first time without any destination. At least when he uses public transit to get to specific locations, he has an excuse. Not this time.

It's a cloudy Wednesday. He doesn't have class until noon, but he had woken up early and slipped into the morning rush. If he had arrived at his normal time, there would be enough space that he wouldn't be able to covertly fold himself against the contours of someone else without being called out.

He's pretty sure there's a word for this in Japanese, or something similar to it, but it refers to old men who molest girls on the train. He's not an old man, and he's not molesting anyone. He's just trying to take care of himself, satisfy his need for contact as best as he can. The stress of school, of his low-income job at the convenience store, of general existential despair—these all fade away when he's tucked in against someone's side. It's like a hug. Like someone saying, _It'll be okay, Sehun._

It goes well. No one gives him weird looks. No one looks at him at all, for the most part, at least as far as he notices. _He's_ the one casting furtive looks at everyone, scared that he'll be discovered as he curls himself into his neighbors' sides. He has to focus on his expression, steel it into something that doesn't look so satisfied. He wishes he was shorter. He wouldn't stick out as much.

He meets someone's eyes once. Long, dark lashes, a curl on either sides of his mouth. A brief smirk. Then the man is gone.

+++

This goes on for almost two weeks straight. Sehun gets on the morning or evening rush hour train, rides it until he's had his fill or until the crowd loosens up enough that he can't get away with close contact.

He sees the cat-mouthed man more often than not. They make eye contact every time, and each time, the man's smirk looks more knowing than the last, like he's aware of Sehun's intentions. Fuck. Sehun hopes that's not the case. He already knows how much of a freak he is. He doesn't need some too-handsome stranger judging him, too.

It's Tuesday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he _does_ have to ride the morning train if he wants to get to class on time. It's both a blessing and a curse; he doesn't feel as bad because he has a legitimate excuse for being here, but he can't stay on board for as long as he would like, giving him comfort but leaving him craving more.

Fortunately, it seems tighter than usual today, bodies shifting against him like thoughtless caresses. Whoever is behind him almost seems like they're pushing back with their entire body, even. They're probably trying to make space for themselves, but Sehun can't move in any direction. He closes his eyes and savors the feeling.

A touch on his hip opposite from the one on which his shoulder bag rests sends a little jolt through his whole system. He expects someone to use it to push past him, or to move him to the side for some reason, but that doesn't come. The palm stays there, firm, and after a moment, Sehun feels fingers creeping under his shirt. It's not a full-on grope; just fingertips rubbing back and forth over the same strip of skin above his pants. Sehun stiffens, a combination of heat and fear twisting in his stomach. He glances down, seeing short fingers and a small hand that leads to a forearm. The angle implicates the passenger standing behind him.

The words are muttered into his shoulder. "Was this what you've been looking for? Someone touching you?" Hot breath skates across his neck. "You've been so obvious. You're practically begging for it."

It's a man's voice. He seizes up, eyes searching frantically around him for anyone that might be looking at them, more nervous about being caught than about being touched by some stranger. He realizes the cat-mouthed man isn't here today.

Or...maybe he is. The realization dawns on him the same slow, skulking way the heat creeps down his spine.

The stranger's other hand slides around Sehun's waist under his bag, landing on the inside of Sehun's thigh, and Sehun can feel his the denim of his jeans shift as his body reacts. The hand still on his hip moves under his waistband, stroking flames into his skin. Then Sehun is pulled backwards, his ass directed back against the other man's own hips, and that's definitely a cock wedged against his ass, now. Sehun lets out a shuddering breath as the man brings them together in a subtle rocking motion, enough to feel but not enough for others to notice unless they stare directly at the point of contact. Sehun glances around again, confirming that no one is actually watching them. Hesitantly, heart hammering up near his throat, Sehun pops his ass out, letting the line of the man's dick ride up through the clothed cleft of Sehun's cheeks.

There's a quiet hum in Sehun's ear, and the stranger's hands suddenly go vice-tight. The hand on his thigh rewards his compliance with a sudden stroke of his erection. Sehun gasps, his body going taut even as his hips jerk forward.

The man tuts. "Quiet." The hand is gone from his crotch, settling back on his hip. Sehun beats down a whine, showing his displeasure instead by rocking his hips backwards more insistently. Now that he's had a taste of this illicit pleasure, he wants more. "My stop is coming up."

Alarm floods Sehun's system. "Stay on," he says, and if it sounds petulant, well, he hasn't had this type of attention in long enough that he's unwilling to let it go without a fight. Being enveloped by body heat feels good. Being specifically touched by someone, however, is the type of feeling that Sehun can become addicted to.

There's a sharp pinch on the roundest part of his ass, and he almost yelps. "Don't be a brat." The rebuke is sharp, demanding obedience, and Sehun is embarrassed to find himself aroused by it.

As best as he can, the man keeps his space from Sehun for the last minute of the ride, keeping a covert hand on one of Sehun's hips as their only contact. While the doors open, Sehun hears one last thing: "And wear something besides jeans next time." It sounds like a promise, and Sehun's assent comes out as an inaudible whimper.

Then the man is being whisked away by the crowd. Sehun watches the back of his head as he slips out of the doors, and he thinks he sees a flash of a familiar curled mouth before the doors shut again.

Sehun bites his lip and moves his bag so it can cover his arousal. Hopefully it goes away by the time his stop comes.

+++

Sehun wears sweatpants for the next three days in a row. Every second he spends on the train has him on the edge of fear and arousal. He has to stop himself from jumping whenever someone presses up behind him. Each time he gets off the train without a sign of the cat-mouthed man, he's both disappointed, and maybe a little bit relieved.

He doesn't find the man on Wednesday or Thursday, but on Friday, there's a familiar body pressed along his back. The man doesn't waste time, identifying himself by digging his fingers into Sehun's hips and yanking back.

"The sweats are an improvement," a voice purrs in his ear, prickling the skin where hot breath licks across it. Like flicking on a switch, all of Sehun's blood rushes down between his thighs, already dreading and anticipating what will happen next. This is so fucked up, not to mention dangerous. If Sehun's _mother_ knew what he was doing—

No. He's not going to think about his fucking mother when there's a hand slipping down under his waistband. The man doesn't say anything else, just rubs and fondles him over his briefs until he's hard and aching. Unprompted, Sehun's hips make jerky, truncated nudges back against the stranger's hardening cock. The man's other hand uses its grip on Sehun's hip to pull him back harder, guiding his movements into a discrete rut.

When the hand goes from stroking him over his underwear to gripping him underneath it, Sehun finally breaks, whimpering quietly by normal standards, but in the low din of the train cart, it's damning. Sehun hurriedly pulls his messenger bag in front of his crotch, hiding his sin as best as he can, and just in time, too; a woman turns her head and her questioning gaze falls upon Sehun.

Sehun goes still, his hips ceasing all movement. He tries to keep a straight face, but it's almost impossible when the stranger _doesn't stop jacking him off,_ when the stranger even dares to increase the speed of his fist over Sehun's cock. The woman glares at him suspiciously for a few long, agonizing seconds, at the sweat beading on his hairline and at his red ears, before she turns away again.

The man must have been watching around his shoulder, because the moment the woman is no longer looking, his hips kick forward, grinding his hard cock between the cleft of Sehun's ass, the cotton doing nothing to hide its contour. He harshly pulls Sehun back to meet his hips, holding them in place, and then goes rigid. After a few beats, his body relaxes against Sehun, and Sehun realizes belatedly that the man just came. He licks his lips. Fuck. That shouldn't be as hot as it is.

Sehun shamelessly chases his own pleasure, nudging his hips back to remind the stranger of the hand he currently has down Sehun's pants. There's a puff of laughter in his ear, and then the man's fist is tightening and flying across his dick, ruthless, with only one goal: getting him off as fast as possible.

It works. Sehun's already almost there, the thrill of almost getting caught doing wonders for his arousal. He shudders out his climax, his legs almost giving out underneath him.

The stranger withdraws his hand from Sehun's underwear and wipes it off on the side of Sehun's pants. If Sehun hadn't been dazed by the strength of his orgasm, he would have found it in himself to be disgusted. As it stands, he can only sway as the crowd around him begins to unsettle, preparing for the next stop. There are fingers, he realizes belatedly, rubbing gentle circles into his hips, soothing. To Sehun, they feel like a silent reward, and he inwardly preens.

The doors open, and people begin to spill out, jostling Sehun and breaking the spell. "If you want me to fuck you," the stranger starts in a low voice, and all of Sehun's awareness snaps to the sound, "then work yourself open for me before you get on next time. Maybe put in a plug." He pats Sehun's hip twice, and something about the action seems demeaning, but before Sehun can puzzle it out, the man is gone, lost in the sea of people.

+++

But the man hadn't said when "next time" will be, which means Sehun is stuck fingering himself every morning for the next week, not bringing himself to climax, and keeping his hole open for easy access by sliding a plug in it. Keeping himself from going hard on the train becomes his daily challenge, especially with how the crowd rocks into him, shifting the plug in deeper, just right. His sweatpants eradicate any modesty he might have had otherwise, tenting easily, and to make it worse, Sehun forgoes underwear every day now, wishfully thinking it will give the stranger easier access. How he manages to not get caught, he doesn't know. Mornings he doesn't have to be at school early allow him more time to addrss it, but every morning that leaves him aching and unsatisfied when he has early classes, he has to rush to the nearest bathroom, work the plug back out, and jerk off as fast as he can.

(Utility work on his normal route has him late, once, leaves him with no time to take out the plug, which means he has it in all morning. It's hell.)

Is the man doing this on purpose? Sehun doesn't know him well. Or, at all, really. He can't vouch for the man's personality, but based on his words and actions so far and the devious curl of his lips, Sehun thinks it's possible.

Almost two weeks go by without any sign of the stranger. Sehun is frustrated, both sexually and emotionally. Now that he's had a taste of what he can have, the feeling of casual, unintentional touches on the train don't feel like enough. This stranger had waltzed in, satisfied Sehun's cravings twice, and then disappeared even after promising more. He's been MIA long enough that Sehun is close to abandoning the plug. Maybe it _is_ time he starts dating again, or at least time to give in to Zitao's suggestion to download Grindr. He's thirsty, or, like the stranger had said, practically begging for it.

His whole body lights up like a firecracker when it's suddenly pulled back against a familiarly-sized stature. "Missed me?"

Trying to reign in his excitement and consequently betrayed by the way goosebumps break out down his arms, Sehun pouts, "You left me."

Like the first time, the man pinches him, leaving a sting on his hip that Sehun refuses to admit is pleasant. "Don't be a brat." The words are familiar. Then: "Did you listen to me?"

In lieu of a verbal answer, Sehun cants his hips backwards, his ass popping out as an invitation. The man slides his hands down the front of Sehun's thighs, back around and up the swell of his rear before dipping both under his waistband. From the front, the man's hands can enter his pants without pulling them down; but from behind like this, his sweatpants drop a little, and he can feel the top of his ass exposed to the cool air. Adrenaline racks his body, begot from both arousal and the fear-thrill combo tied with the potential of being caught. The train is packed in enough that no one can see unless they crane their heads over the man's shoulder, but it's still very, very possible.

While one hand digs its fingernails into the flesh of his ass, the other one slides a finger down Sehun's crack, slow and thorough, until it comes to the plug. Sehun is pleased when he hears the truncated breath in his ear, and even more pleased when the man pushes the plug in deeper, draws it out only to push it back in again. "Fucking perfect," he hisses into Sehun's ear. He fucks the toy into Sehun a few times, causing him to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out. After almost two weeks without the man's attention, he feels like he could come from ass play alone, without his dick or prostate being stimulated at all. But he hopes that's not the case.

Fortunately, it becomes clear that the man has other intentions for him, digging the plug in one final time before withdrawing it completely. He swears quietly again at the feel of lube sliding out, and while one hand pockets the plug in Sehun's pants, the other swirls around Sehun's opening, collecting before pushing as much as he can back in. Sehun almost chokes when he imagines the man doing that with his cum, pushing in back into Sehun's well-fucked hole after using it to get himself off. Fuck.

Both hands are back under his pants, squeezing Sehun's cheeks tightly and spreading him open. As he plays with Sehun's ass, the man presses his lips to Sehun's ear. "Gonna fuck you now," he murmurs, and even if it's a statement, Sehun recognizes it as a last chance to say no. In response, Sehun pushes back against the hard ridge he can feel in the man's pants, tucking the groping hands in between their bodies.

He wishes he can see the man unzip his pants to take out his cock, wishes he can see how hard and flushed it is, wishes he can taste it, feel it in the back of his fucking throat. Instead, he feels his sweatpants being lowered to rest under his ass, feels the hot shaft being guided down his crack before pushing in.

The intrusion is delicious, burning, unrelenting. The man's cock is thick in the best of ways. He can't stifle his mewl, and he tries to pass it off as a cough. Like the last time he made a noise, someone, this time an older man, turns to look at him suspiciously, even as the stranger finishes sliding into him, only stopping when their hips are flush together. Sehun can't bring himself to meet the old man's eyes when there's a cock splitting him open. Fuck, he's really doing this. This is happening. The old man looks away and the stranger behind him pulls back to push forward again.

The man can't move his hips fast or hard, not if they want to remain undetected. But the way he grinds his fat cock deep into Sehun has Sehun's toes curling, his fingers reaching back to curl into the man's thighs, urging him to go harder even if he can't. The man growls, tightens his grip on Sehun's hips. "Feels good? I was right, you've really been choking for it. Feel how eager your hole is for me." The words are hushed, but Sehun's attention is wrapped tight around them. The man continues: "You're just ready to bend over and take it anywhere for anyone, aren't you?"

"No." Sehun has to try twice to get the word out; the first time, the word is punched out of him on a hitched breath. The second attempt is marginally more successful.

"No?" The man's hand finally curls around Sehun's arousal.

"Just you," Sehun tries. The way the man ruts into him has his cock hitting all the right spots. Sehun can barely fucking _breathe._

"You don't even know me," the man hisses. "What a slut." Sehun's cock pulses as the man rubs his palm over the head.

"Just you," Sehun insists. " _Please._ "

He must sound particularly wrecked, because the man relents. "Fuck. Okay." The hand on his cock speeds up, and it feels like the hips behind him are thrusting too hard and fast to be discreet anymore, but it feels too good for Sehun to focus on discretion. It takes all of his effort just to keep himself from drooling.

When Sehun comes, it takes every ounce of his self-restraint to keep himself from crying out, to keep himself standing up and expressionless. It makes him more focused on his pleasure as he internalizes it, feels every wave of his orgasm cripple him on the inside. His stomach muscles violently quiver. The man behind him chokes out a quiet noise into Sehun's shoulder, affected by the sudden clench of Sehun's body. The hands on his hips clamp down one final time as the man spills inside of him. As he comes down, Sehun has that vision of the man pushing his own cum back into Sehun's hole again. Fuck. He wants that. He wants that so damn bad, and he doesn't know how to ask for it, especially not now, when all of his higher brain functions have been eradicated by the forceful totality of his orgasm.

Sehun almost whines when the man pulls out, but then there's something else being pushed inside of him, cold and hard and . . . _the plug._ The man is plugging his cum inside of Sehun's body, and it's so fucking dirty that Sehun's cock gives a pathetic little jerk. Gentle hands ease Sehun's sweatpants back up until they're back properly on his body.

There's a musical chime played through the train's speakers, announcing their arrival at the next stop. "This is me," the man says, and his voice sounds upbeat and unaffected, while Sehun is still dazed. And then, like they're discussing the weather, he continues, "If you come back with me, I can wreck you in my bed where you can be as loud as you want."

He has class. He has class, and he still doesn't even know this man's name, but he's got his cum plugged up inside his ass and he's wanted this for weeks, so he says, "Okay," and lets the man lead him by the hand off the train.

**Author's Note:**

> they introduce themselves right after they get off the train btw
> 
> this is so unrealistic they'd be caught right away ;;;;; there isn't enough public transit sex in the exo tag, though, so it had to be written


End file.
